


Eliot's Achilles' Heel

by rayvanfox



Category: Leverage
Genre: Character Study, Light Dom/sub, Morning Cuddles, Multi, No Sex, OT3, Power Dynamics, i basically stop right before the fun begins, it's more of a, than anything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvanfox/pseuds/rayvanfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took Eliot forever to pinpoint the problem.</p>
<p>Or maybe not problem so much as pitfall.</p>
<p>Or something.</p>
<p>Whatever it was, the fact that he’d never been so close to people in his own line of work meant that he was becoming spoiled for companionship.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or, the one where Eliot really needs cuddles and finally gets them. just how he likes them, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eliot's Achilles' Heel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadinacookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadinacookie/gifts), [BootsnBlossoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootsnBlossoms/gifts), [neverwhere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverwhere/gifts).



> for jade because OT3, for never because domestic D/s, and for boots who just realized i'm more eliot than parker.

It took Eliot forever to pinpoint the problem.

Or maybe not _problem_ so much as pitfall.

Or something.

Whatever it was, the fact that he’d never been so close to people in his own line of work meant that now he was becoming spoiled for companionship.

Because Hardison and Parker knew him for who he was — really _knew_ him — how he functioned in danger and calm, what his mood swings looked like, how he tended towards solitude when shit got real... pretty much everything except the very worst of who he’d been, and therefore what he was capable of — because of all that, he felt more comfortable with them than anyone else on the planet. And that kinda ruined him for the whole dating circuit.

It used to be easy to find company for an evening or two. Someone willing to be charmed into his bed, or once in a while a damsel — or gentleman — in distress to save. There was usually quite a bit of gratitude in those cases and Eliot was never above being rewarded for his trouble. But those pleasures faded so quickly these days, and all Eliot could think of by the time dawn started to break was getting back home to the apartment they all shared and making breakfast for his teammates.

It didn’t matter what kind of night each of them had spent, breakfast was when they could all sit together and talk. Or more accurately, Hardison would run his mouth, talking about all sorts of dumb shit and being sunshine incarnate, Eliot would make interested grunting noises while distracted, and Parker would sit silently and drink coffee, watching Eliot cook as if it were a totally foreign concept. He’d finally weaned her off of cereal, mostly. Now she just ate it late at night for comfort instead of every meal.

If he were being honest with himself, breakfast wasn’t even the best time of day. That was when they had a lull in the afternoon or early evening, and everyone was sprawled across the couch, reading or playing video games — or in Parker’s case, sometimes just staring at the ceiling — and there was companionable silence and the animal comfort of their bodies taking up space in a room together. A lot of times Eliot would find himself seated on the floor with his back against the couch, within easy reach of Parker’s hand or pressed up against Hardison’s leg. Parker would sometimes brush or braid his hair, just for something to do with her hands that wasn’t picking locks while timing herself, and Eliot would give up whatever he was doing and close his eyes to concentrate on the feel of her fingers through his hair. It was meditative, and he always felt refreshed after, like taking a nap without having to fall asleep.

That was what he needed this morning, after escaping the apartment of last night’s date too early, leaving an apologetic note propped against a newly made pot of coffee. He needed touch that was a known quantity, so that he didn’t have to keep reminding himself he was safe — that the person he was with wasn’t there to harm him but to give and receive pleasure. With Parker, specifically, even when she intended to hurt him, she did it in a way that was safe, somehow. Or maybe he’d just reprogramed his brain to bypass any of his normal preservatory reflexes when it came to her. She could probably do anything to him and he’d be fine with it, mostly because he knew for a fact that she’d never do anything he didn’t agree to.

He knew this because they’d recently started this game when she played with his hair where she’d tug on it and ask if it hurt. The game was that Eliot said yes, because it would hurt, but in a good way, and she’d continue to pull on different places and ask every time until there was that shift when the pain was something to turn off instead of revel in. Eliot was _very_ good at turning off pain. He had to be. So the moment she asked and he said no, she stopped. He’d tried to explain it to Hardison one time, in her hearing, and she’d shrugged, saying “it’s not fun when it doesn’t hurt you anymore,” but all of them knew Parker stopped because Eliot had reached his limit.

Hardison could only ever shake his head at things like that. He didn’t understand them, not really. He was all about warmth and cuddles and sweetness, which was great, until it wasn’t. Luckily Parker and Eliot each had different thresholds around when Hardison’s touchy-feely nature was too much, and he rarely felt rejected by them, because Lord knows, they both needed it badly, even if sometimes they couldn’t handle it. Eliot had done some soul searching around the fact that he tended to need Hardison's touch most when he felt like it was most inappropriate, and he’d had a talk with Hardison — or he’d tried, but Hardison had just nodded and nodded and known it all already. Eliot had acted like he was upset about that, but it had been deeply satisfying to know that Hardison understood. That kid was creepy smart.

The point was, Eliot had scared himself this morning with wanting Hardison’s and Parker’s touch more than he wanted to wake up his bed partner and ask if he was into shower sex.

But then, of course, he got home too early, and neither of them were awake yet. Eliot put on a pot of coffee, hoping to lure Parker out with the smell as it enveloped the house, and thought about frying some bacon, which was Hardison’s Pavlovian bell, but first he headed to their room, just to peek in, just to see if they were both truly asleep and gauge how long they might still be out for.

The door was cracked open, which wasn’t unusual. Hardison had a thing about needing to not feel too confined in a space, which was why every place they lived had an open floorplan. Eliot peered through the crack, and was met with the sight of limbs wrapped around each other, tangled in sleep, with the sheets a crumpled mess between them. Parker must have finally gotten over the don’t-touch-me-while-I’m-unconscious thing. _Good._

But as Eliot shifted his line of sight to monitor breathing patterns, Parker’s face came into view. Her eyes were half open and lazily staring at something in the middle distance. Eliot tried to back away silently, but the moment he moved, she clocked him, and a sly smile spread across her face. He put his finger to his lips and gestured with his thumb over his shoulder, but she squinted hard at him, crinkling her nose.

She mouthed the words “Come in,” and Eliot shook his head. “No really, come _in._ ” She waved the hand resting on Hardison’s chest more enthusiastically than necessary.

Eliot could see that she wasn’t wearing a shirt, at the very least, and Hardison’s chest and legs were bare as well, so this could end up being majorly awkward. Eliot hadn’t even had time to shower away last night, and he felt kinda skeezy bringing the smell of sex into the room.

But he tiptoed in anyway, because Parker was making room and Eliot was weak. She rolled onto her back and patted the spot next to her, so Eliot sat down, one foot still on the floor, and mouthed “Good morning.”

“Did you have a good night?” Her eyebrows had a suggestive arch to them, but the question was somehow innocent coming from her, as always.

“Not bad. He was a bottom, which I wasn’t expecting.”

Parker took the information as she always did, complacently and without judgment. “Don’t you get bored of that? You date men for variety, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s different with men anyway.”

She nodded sagely as if she understood. Hell, for all Eliot knew, she did. “The touch.” She slowly reached up to Eliot’s ponytail. “Did he touch you like you needed?”

Eliot tried not to wonder why she didn’t say ‘wanted’ as he leaned toward her so she’d take his hair in her hand. “Kinda.”

Instead of grabbing hold of the ponytail, she tugged out the rubber band, letting his hair fall over his shoulders. Then she took hold of a hank on the back of his head and slowly pulled him towards the pillow next to hers. It was an extremely effective way of getting him to lie down. Once he was settled, she turned toward him and started pulling different strands of hair, just to see his eyes crinkle up in pain. He would blink at her every time she stopped though, so she continued for a while until she got bored.

“Better?”

“A little.” Eliot had calmed and lost his awkwardness about being in their bed, but there was still something pent up in him from skipping out early on his one night stand, and an ache in his chest that the hair-pulling hadn’t satisfied.

“Roll over.” She flicked his shoulder in what he assumed was an order to give her his back. That should have been difficult to do, but for her, it wasn’t. As he started to move, she hissed, “Also, no shirts in bed,” and he followed that instruction as well, kicking off his shoes in the process so he could climb fully into position.

This should have been a bad idea. Hardison was right there, asleep next to them. Parker was in an oddly calm mood and could have come up with a whole new game without telling him, but he needed _something_ and she seemed to have an idea of what. Or at least she had decided what she wanted from him, and there was no way he was going to discourage that at all. She’d made so much progress recently when it came to feeling things and stating her needs, and Eliot rationalized this with the hope that Hardison would be more proud of her for acting on something she felt than he would be upset by whatever it was she had wanted from Eliot.

Not that it would be anything big, he told himself. They didn’t do stuff like that. Just tiny little exchanges of power that they both needed, things that still left Hardison at sea. He'd always seemed fully satisfied to let that be solely their jurisdiction, and neither of them were in a rush to try to introduce him to something that was so very foreign to his way of being. It worked out nicely this way.

With all of these thoughts, Eliot was profoundly confused when Parker did nothing more than slip her arm around his body and spoon him close. The warmth of her upper body pressed to his bare back, the soft mounds of her breasts, the snug fit of her legs against the backs of his own, all felt unreasonably good. She was almost certainly naked, and he was equally resentful of and grateful for the pair of jeans he still wore.

She hugged him tightly, and for a split second he felt smothered by the constriction, but then her grip became strong enough to make breathing difficult, and he had to concentrate on that for a minute. Because it was still a hug, not a choke hold or anything designed to incapacitate him, it dragged him fully into his body in a way that he really needed. This was the most physical contact he and Parker had ever shared, and as delicious as it was — her body against his back soothing something deep within him — it was still simply touch, not foreplay.

She was _holding_ him, like he almost never was held. When she let up slightly so his breathing came easier, but still clung to him, giving him a wealth of sensation — body heat, the softness of her skin, the smell of her shampoo — something inside his chest cracked open. What it was that opened him up to, he wouldn’t understand until Hardison woke.

Which was close to an hour later, after Parker had fallen back asleep with Eliot in her arms, and even he had started to doze, the comfort of her touch and the sound of Hardison’s breathing lulling him into a sense of safety.

“Mmrfff. Baby...” Hardison shifted on the bed and his arm snaked around Parker’s body, then stopped when there was another body pressed up against it.

Eliot tried to bolt, but Parker’s response seemed to be an instinctive clutching at whatever she was holding onto, and damn, that girl was strong. She murmured softly, “Morning, hon. Eliot’s here.”

“Oh yeah?” Hardison’s voice got more distinct and closer, and Eliot risked a glance back to see Hardison peering around Parker’s shoulder with wide eyes. “Hey, man. You wearing pants?”

“Yes, I’m wearing pants, God.” Eliot frowned at the possibility that Hardison didn’t trust him with Parker. He’d hoped they’d never get to this part, and had actively worked against more intimate situations that might cause it. And now this. _One slip..._

“Why, man? You’re in bed. Take ‘em off.” Hardison looked at Parker and said, “If he’s wearing tighty-whities, be nice. Some men like some support.”

“But if he took off his pants, I’d have to let go,” Parker pouted. “I don’t wanna.”

“Just for the amount of time it took him to get them off,” Hardison said in a reasonable tone.

Parker just shook her head and hugged Eliot harder.

“Fine. I hope you don’t mind, man. She’s hard to negotiate with in the morning.” And with that, Hardison lay his head back down and slid his arm all the way over both Parker’s waist and Eliot’s. He rested his hand flat on Eliot’s stomach, heaved a deep sigh, and settled back in as if headed back to sleep.

“Wait. That’s it?” Eliot asked.

“You expecting something else?” Hardison mumbled. “We could start a backrub chain...”

“No. Dammit, Hardison, I’m in your bed! With Parker wrapped around me.”

“Yeah? That’s what it’s like in the morning in this bed.”

“She’s naked.”

“So? So am I.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” Eliot said, trying to banish the image before it wreaked havoc with him.

“So what do you need to know? That snuggle time lasts for about an hour, and usually stops when Parker can smell coffee? That sometimes she’ll forget you need to breathe? That you’ll almost always be the little spoon unless she’s had a nightmare, and then she’ll wake you up and pull you around her until you’re sure you’ve squashed her and there’s no way she can breathe, but that’s how she likes it?”

There was a swift motion behind him, and Eliot could hear Hardison expel a breath. “Oof. Come on, baby. That was some unnecessary roughness.”

“No more bed secrets,” Parker hissed.

“All right. I’m sorry. I thought you’d want him to know if he’s going to be joining us.”

“ _Joining_ you?” Eliot repeated, aghast.

“For snuggle time. It’s an important part of the day.”

“And now it’s over,” Parker said, sitting up between them. “Being in the middle means it takes less time.”

“Damn. I haven’t got my fill yet,” Hardison said. He rolled away from them as Parker crawled out of bed, totally unconcerned with her nakedness. “You couldn’t help a brother out now, could you, Eliot?”

“You mean...” _Of course_ he did. Hardison wanted to be the little spoon.

His broad, bare back was facing Eliot, and Parker was gesturing and mouthing, “Go on!”

Eliot closed his eyes so as not to stare at Parker’s body, then sighed as if everything was the most awful. Hardison made a warning noise, like the non-verbal equivalent of ‘don’t you dare’, and Eliot rolled his eyes and gave in. He scooted close to wrap himself around Hardison, pressing his face against Hardison’s nape to hide his satisfied smile.

This was something Eliot hadn’t thought he’d ever get, so he’d specifically not allowed himself to want it. In order to not fall into the trap of wanting anything when it came to his teammates, he would get annoyed with them instead. And that’s what he should have been doing right now, but instead he just enjoyed it — dangerous, certainly, but whatever he’d been searching for by finding someone last night still hadn’t been fully appeased, and Parker had opened him up to the possibility that he could find it here.

And dammit if Hardison wasn’t the most comfortable little spoon. He fitted his whole self against Eliot’s front, and then seemed to just melt into Eliot’s arms. All that muscle and bone somehow went soft and pliant — even more so than Parker had been — and Eliot had to work to not press even closer and bury his nose in the crook of Hardison’s neck.

Parker made her presence known by snaking her fingers into Eliot’s hair and holding a huge hank of it tight in her fist. At first Eliot thought it was to keep him from being too forward or rough with Hardison, but then, when he realized how good it felt — how grounding the pain was — he decided she was just doing her part to make everyone happy. Hardison got his stellar snuggles, and Eliot got the physical grounding he needed with body heat and pressure and pain.

This was the sort of thing that made it clear why Parker was the mastermind of their group.

She didn’t hold on to Eliot for long, though. Just enough for the sweetness of Hardison’s cuddles to be cut with the bitter effect of sharp pain on his scalp. The combination caused Eliot to let go of everything — all his pent up energy and nerves and dissatisfaction and worry, all his situational awareness and alertness, all his fear that he shouldn’t even be here in bed with his teammates — and he finally reached a level of calm and quiet that was better even than post-orgasm sluggishness.

_Subspace._ It had been so fucking long since he’d been open enough to go so deep, and it felt so damned good.

“There. Stay. I can smell coffee. I’m going to get some.”

That was Eliot’s job. He flinched and started to move. “But—”

Parker’s hand rested heavily on his shoulder, and Hardison’s arm clamped down on the one Eliot had tucked around his torso. “ _Stay._ I’ll be right back. And I’ll be really angry if you’ve gotten out of bed.”

That was an explicit order. Eliot could follow that. In fact, it felt good to be told what to do, especially when it was something so easy.

Of course, that was before Eliot knew how hard Hardison could make things.

He just wouldn’t stop talking. “So I guess you got home early. Your date must have been boring if Parker finally coaxed you in here. I didn’t feel her get up. Normally, I notice if she leaves the bed, but I must have been tired. I guess all that World of Warcraft last night wore me out.”

“Hardison, isn’t snuggle time quiet time? Because if not, I’m getting up.”

“No, man, no. Don’t get up. I’ll be quiet, I promise. I’m just so glad you’re here for this. Parker has been driving me crazy trying to think up how to... never mind.”

He’d finally shut up, and all Eliot wanted now was for him to keep talking. “...How to what?”

“Nope. Quiet time, you’re right. She already elbowed me once for giving up bed secrets, and I like my solar plexus in pristine condition, thank you very much.”

Eliot brushed his fingers over Hardison’s chest very lightly, causing him to shiver. Eliot smiled at the reaction, saying, “Come on, this secret’s about me. I have a right to know.”

“No, uh-uh. Those are the ones you _shouldn’t_ know. I mean really...” Hardison was squirming as Eliot continued to pet him softly with just enough pressure to barely tickle. “If I told you all the secrets I’m keeping about you, we’d _all_ be in trouble.”

The emphasis on ‘all’ meant the whole family, not just the current team. What the hell could Nate and Sophie have secrets about when it came to him? Exhaling loudly as if he were annoyed, Eliot tried not to let his flattered grin show up in his voice. “Not as much trouble as you’ll be if you don’t.”

“I can’t, I promised. I crossed my damned heart, Eliot. I’m a man of my word. Appreciate.”

Eliot was so very tempted to tickle the secrets out of Hardison, but the man was right. Extracting information like this was unfair, and if he lost Hardison’s or Parker’s trust in doing so, it definitely wouldn’t be worth it. “Fine.”

And then he let go of Hardison and turned fully around until his back was facing Hardison’s, simply because for once he was getting whatever it was that he’d needed for longer than he’d care to admit, and he was feeling playful and a bit bratty.

There was a moment of complete silence, then Hardison started moving around, saying, “No you didn’t,” in a mildly threatening voice. The next moment, Hardison had glommed onto Eliot’s back, fitting against him almost as well as Parker had, and slipped an arm around his torso to hug him close. Eliot held his breath, but that was it. Hardison just wanted to spoon, no matter which way they were facing.

When Eliot finally exhaled, Hardison sighed in contentment and buried his face in Eliot’s hair.

Eliot was just getting antsy a couple minutes later when Parker came back, three coffee mugs in her hands. “Harder, Hardison. He likes it harder than that.”

Both Eliot and Hardison raised their heads to frown at her. “Whatchu talkin’ about, Missus?” Hardison asked.

“Hug Eliot tighter. He likes that. Otherwise he gets annoyed.”

“What? No I don...” Eliot stopped when Parker just looked flatly at him, unimpressed. It wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted her to be perceptive of, but there was no denying it was true.

“You on the autism spectrum too, E?” Hardison said with absolutely no judgment as he squeezed Eliot until it was hard to breathe — and so much easier to stay still.

“What? No! I’m just...”

“It’s that sub thing, hon. It gives him an excuse to not think or move or anything.”

“What does?”

“Being incapacitated,” Parker said as she set down two mugs on the bedside table.

“Ain’t no incapacitating this guy. He could snap my neck like a toothpick, any day of the week, from any angle.” As Hardison’s voice got stronger, so did his grip around Eliot, as if he were worried Eliot would attempt something just to prove his strength.

“Yeah, but it’s part of the game. You give him enough of an excuse to shut that part off, he’ll play along. Roll over. Purr.” Her eyebrow arched slyly as she crawled carefully onto the bed with her coffee mug in hand.

“He’s never purred for you. Has he?” Hardison had raised his head to look over Eliot’s shoulder, but his view was blocked by a heavy section of Eliot's mane. Lucky thing, too, because Parker had sat down right next to Eliot’s head, still buck naked, and was running her fingers lightly down his bare arm.

He was inches away from purring right then and there.

“Harder, Hardison, and he just might.” Parker’s grin had gone wicked and it took Eliot’s breath away.

“I can’t get any harder than this,” Hardison said, his voice strained with effort.

“I can,” Eliot whispered, a glimmer in his eye for Parker.

She laughed abruptly, throwing her head back and snorting in amusement. “Hard to tell in those jeans, baby.”

“Wait, how is _he_ baby? I’ve been lobbying for ‘baby’ for months!”

“Because you’re ‘honey’ and ‘sugar’. Eliot is ‘baby’. That’s just how it is.”

Gently, but almost as if it were a compulsion, Parker pressed her coffee mug to Eliot’s triceps. The stark heat of it stung his skin, but he didn’t flinch. He’d seen it coming. She didn’t remove it, though. Not until it started to really burn. She watched his face carefully as he squinched his eyes further and further shut, his mouth pulling up into an unbidden smile/wince.

And then, like a switch, the pain shut off, and he opened his eyes to smile shyly at her. Her own smile dropped and she pulled the mug away, looking at the pink patch of skin where it had been. “Yeah?”

“Yeah," Eliot sighed. "But Hardison’s gotta let up a bit. Everything’s too hot, now.”

She smirked and reached out to touch the pink skin, but pulled away before her fingers made it to his arm. Instead, she cast her eyes over his whole torso, obviously looking for a good spot to try next.

“Sugar, let go.”

“I don’t wanna. You can’t make me.” Hardison sounded wary, concerned.

She looked up at his words, her mouth a tight line, but she didn’t contradict him. That wasn’t how they worked.

“Then just let up a bit, and give her some room.” Eliot closed his eyes when he felt Hardison's fingers comb his hair from his face, then opened them again to see Hardison’s face had appeared over his shoulder. He nodded, reassuring. “It’s fine, Alec. It’s good. You can watch if you’re worried.”

Hardison nodded cautiously. He pulled his arms back, leaving Eliot’s stomach open, but stayed fully pressed up to Eliot’s back. Then he rested his chin on Eliot’s shoulder so he could see both of their faces. Parker nodded once, quickly, and pressed the hot mug to Eliot’s abdomen, right below his belly button. It was a very sensitive bit of skin, and Eliot’s muscles jumped slightly as the shocking heat hit them. And then the sting started to build into a staticky burn that made a light sweat break out on his skin, and Parker chuckled in delight.

“There it is, hon. Hear it?”

Eliot had no idea what she was talking about until Hardison chuckled into his hair, and that’s when he noticed — deep in his own chest, the low growl that came from deepest contentment. Eliot was purring.

“You like pain _that_ much?” Hardison asked softly, as if in awe.

Eliot took a quick breath and blinked at Parker, who pulled the mug away about three seconds too soon. “I had to learn how, or I wouldn’t have survived. First it was just overcoming the pain, then it was finding how to live with it, then it was learning to love it. I don’t enjoy inflicting pain, because bringing emotion like that into the job is how you get yourself killed, but yeah.” He shrugged.

Parker abruptly leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

He furrowed his brow at her. “What was that for?”

“I dunno.” She turned away and set down her coffee long enough to pick up theirs. “Sit up. drink.” She held out both mugs until they’d propped themselves up far enough to take them from her and sip. Neither of them changed position much, just raised up on an elbow, their bodies still in contact.

“Damned good coffee,” Hardison said.

Eliot replied automatically, “Thanks.”

There was a pause while they drank and Eliot hoped they wouldn’t fall into an awkward silence. But then again, it wasn’t ever the silences that were awkward when Parker was around. “You like it _in bed,_ though. Huh?”

“Coffee?” Hardison queried over Eliot’s shoulder.

“Pain,” Eliot clarified. He had gotten good at following Parker’s conversational acrobatics, and this particular line of thought was clearly going to occupy the center ring for a bit. “Yeah. Not always. And I like it _not_ in bed too...”

“Like the hair game,” she acknowledged.

“Yeah.”

“So your guy last night. Not good with pain?”

“Hard to compare with you, darlin.” Eliot smiled at her, and though he was being charming to deflect the conversation on purpose, he was still telling the truth. Parker had a sadistic streak a mile wide, but she also was the most loyal creature — next to Hardison — and had surprised Eliot with how reliable she was about going as far as was necessary, but also stopping on a dime when needed.

“Heee. Here that? I’m ‘darling’.” She looked over at Hardison with a smile, and Eliot knew she was covering the embarrassment she felt at his compliment.

“God dammit,” Hardison grumbled. “Then what am I?”

“You care about it too much, baby. It’s no big deal.” Eliot grinned as he watched Hardison’s face break into a wide smile.

“ _Baby?_ Really?”

“Sure, why not?”

Hardison raised his fist into the air and pumped it up and down. “Yeeeeeeesss-ah!”

Parker and Eliot grinned at each other and shook their heads. “How do you even handle this?” Eliot asked her.

“Ignore it, mostly,” she said with a shrug, and went back to sipping her coffee. As Hardison continued to celebrate, Parker muttered between sips, “What if I like it that way too? Is that bad?”

Eliot cut his eyes toward Hardison, then raised his eyebrows. She shrugged, but nodded, acknowledging that Hardison knew about this... quirk of hers.

“No. Not bad. But if you two are incompatible that way, it might be hard.”

“But that’s what you’re for,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I...” Eliot paused, wondering if this was stepping over a line. He glanced at Hardison, who’d picked up the thread at least somewhat, then looked back at Parker, who was avoiding his eyes. “You and I use power dynamics to relax and recharge. At least, that’s what it does for me. But if you want to use it in other ways, that’s a conversation for you to have with Hardison before you have it with me.”

“Oh, we’ve talked about it,” he said with a slight raise of one eyebrow. “I don’t get it, but I’m willing to try.”

“Try how?” Eliot asked.

“Well, to let _you_ try. I’ll just watch.”

“Are you sure?” This had started to sound like a very bad idea to Eliot.

“Even just the _thought_ of the two of you in bed together is too damned hot to pass up, let alone the reality. Witnessing something like that could last me a _long_ time.”

Eliot shook his head as if he didn’t need to know that, when in fact he was trying to not allow himself the thought of Hardison jacking off to anything, let alone him. “It might not be pretty, depending.” He turned to Parker and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, mostly just you naked, so I can see what my pain does to you.” Her smile was bordering on creepy, her eyes a bit too vacant.

“And when it’s obvious I need... relief, will you give it to me?”

“That’s the part Hardison wants—”

“Look, I didn’t say it _had_ to be me,” Hardison interrupted. “I just thought, if you got bored...”

“Do you think watching Eliot might get you close, sugar?” Parker was doing that thing where she was trying to sound seductive, but her voice was a bit too flat. Hardison squirmed nonetheless, and for a second Eliot felt why against the back of his thigh. _Interesting._

“Come on, look at him. He’s a God damned Adonis. I can’t be blamed for appreciating beauty, can I?”

Eliot felt a blush creep over his cheeks.

“How about touching him. Will that do it for you, Alec, sweetheart?” Parker’s voice was still a bit like an automaton, but it started to make sense to Eliot why that could work.

Hardison nodded against Eliot’s shoulder. _Well, shit._ All this time keeping his want in check when everyone else wanted, too. _Live and learn..._

Time to grab the bull by the horns, it seemed. “Well, I’m not into orgasm denial, so it sounds like this will work in everyone’s favor.”

Parker blinked at Eliot, then broke into a huge grin. “Great. Then strip while I think of how to hurt you.”

Eliot took just a second before unbuttoning his jeans to revel in the beauty of those words. They were exactly what he'd been needing to hear.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm only sort of sorry i'm posting this before it got to the smut part of things, because i did warn you in the tags.   
> and to be honest, i doubt i'll ever go further with this particular fic.  
> but i wrote this much and even though my brain is now somewhere else, i still like it so i wanted to post it anyway.  
> if anyone wants to pick it up where i left off, be my guest.  
> 


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